


1961

by Dawn_twilight



Series: Summer Writing Project The Sentinel [17]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Episode: s02e06 True Crime, Gen, Missing Scene, Reminiscing, Summer Writing Project
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-03
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 22:20:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 571
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7072762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dawn_twilight/pseuds/Dawn_twilight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Over the years, when he had a little extra money, he would purchase another piece for his collection, but it wasn’t the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1961

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to Sentinel Angst in Yahoo Groups as dues

He only had one left...one original anyway.

Over the years, when he had a little extra money, he would purchase another piece for his collection, but it wasn’t the same. 

Blair sat on his futon, and held the baseball card close to his face, imagining he could still smell the aftershave that used to cling to the soft cardboard and he smiled as the memories came flooding back from the summer of his eighth birthday. 

_Hot afternoons spent in the back yard…the smell of fresh cut grass tickling his nose…the buzzing of insects about his head…a feel of the stiff leather glove in his hand…the weight of the hard ball thrown to him over and over until he was catching it every time…a gentle hand guiding his own arm, teaching him to point where he wanted the ball to go and then to follow through with his throwing arm...the feel of the wood bat resting on his thin shoulder…keeping his eye on the ball…swinging just at the right moment…hearing the wood connecting…sending the ball sailing across the yard and over the fence into the field beyond._

After a few minutes he pulled the card away and looked at the worn surface and the man on the front, the great Nolan Ryan, struck out more batters than any other pitchers in 1961 and Jamie’s favorite player of all time.

His smile slipped as he placed the worn baseball card back into its protective sleeve and dropped it back into the box with the others. He had close to a hundred replacements now, plus the signed bat that rested at the back of his closet, but most of his original collection had been lost over the years, cards they had picked out together on lazy Sunday afternoons were forever lost. 

He knew they were just things, but they reminded him of so many good memories of that summer and that was why he collected them, to remember the good times. 

And maybe to help him forget the hurts that went along with the good. That was the year when Blair learned that he couldn't let himself get close to anyone, because it wouldn't last. It never did and it hurt too damn much to open up to someone new, to think that maybe he was the one that would stick around, maybe be apart of his little family, maybe be his dad. 

_Detach with love._ Naomi's favorite phrase, but it was a principle Blair learned to live by.

"Dinner's ready in ten," Jim called from the kitchen.

At least he had lived by it, until now.

Blair looked up from the box holding his memories of a man he really loved. "Be right out," he called. 

He slipped the box back onto the closet shelf and closed the door to his past. 1961 was a good year in baseball and in his youth there was a man who loved him, took an interest in him and took the time to just be with him. But now, right on the other side of the French doors he had the best friend he could ever ask for, a true friend. 

Dinner was waiting and so was his future.

"Hey Jim,” he asked as he sank into the dinning chair, inhaling the savory scent of baked chicken and new potatoes. “You like baseball..."

The End


End file.
